


Inchoation

by IronicRoyale



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Free verse talking vampire, Mental Health Issues, Protagonist makes questionable decisions, i think i might eff the tags, in which I wrote a fic for a game I barely remember playing, oh god how you even tag, please forgive the author english, that are rarely talked about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 02:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13284678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronicRoyale/pseuds/IronicRoyale
Summary: What if the embrace of the Fledgling was more than a whim of their deceased Sire?In which a Kindred saw the lull of the storm.





	Inchoation

**Author's Note:**

> Inchoation  
>  _noun in·cho·a·tion \ ˌinkəˈwāshən \_  
>  _:an act of beginning :_

She decided this is one of her least stupid ideas. Yet.

 

Actually, for her usual shitty luck, this was becoming quite easily her favorite idea. She would have busted out of Holbrok, Arizona way sooner if she knew hitchhiking was this simple.  Sure, most of her rides had been with lecherous drivers who wanted more than a sincere thanks as reward, she left those ride pretty quick. And the three well-intentioned people, willing to help a girl get around.  Sure, it had barely been a week, but she felt she moved pretty far already with only 500 dollars, a backpack of clothes, and a few toiletries.

 

Feeling giddy, she decided to spoil herself and buy a nice gin cocktail in the closest bar she could find. After one gin, she could chat up one of the patrons into buying her the rest.

 

She made a quick stop at a gas station to freshen up, and change into some short shorts and a loose t-shirt. A loud green scrunchie for luck and Ioana felt ready to face the night.

 

Santa Monica was… Words were failing her, because it was so normal, so boring. She couldn’t possibly think of words to describe the beach city. If anything, she could only shrug her shoulders, and that could properly sum her feelings about the place. It was a lot fresher, but the humidity wasn’t something she could get used quickly. Maybe if she only traveled through the coast of California… Yeah, that was a plan Ioana could stick to.

 

Being true to herself, she enters the first bar she encounters. It’s a small place, quiet place, a few people here and there. She likes it already. Walking to the bar, she orders her gin cocktail, taking her time to savor it. It wasn’t the best, but she could conform. It’s a life skill she has practiced since childhood. The door opened and she didn’t turn, but she notice all the same, especially since the newcomer sat to her left, all tall and looming in… a dark fur coat.

 

It struck her as odd, then again, it’s California and she isn’t the one to judge what normal should look like. Under the black fur coat, a head with platinum messy hair stands tall, his face barely visible. Yet it reveals pale eyes, and they are unnerving,  she can scarcely see a hint of blue in them. Still, she remembers her manners and smiles. In turn, the man mutters to the bartender, who moves to prepare a drink.

 

The bartender moves with precision, each movement with ease and familiarity. Ioana can’t help but watch, a little curious as to what the man could have ordered. He doesn’t strike her as the type of man that prefers fruity cocktails.

 

Ioana likes to think of herself as a very open minded woman. But something about this man, it unsettled her. He’s too handsome to be possibly human. Yet he must be. There’s blood on the side of his face. Her hands twitch, she bites back her instinct that screams to flee from the proximity and takes a napkin, quickly reaching wipe the blood.

 

“I’m sorry!” she blabbers, “  It’s only that you’re bleeding and I thought to cover the wound.”

 

The man gives her a particular look, takes her hand and help her wipe off the blood, showing that underneath there was no awful, gaping wound. “More pain, more joy than anyone can bear, and yet they embrace it,” He mutters nonsensically, before smiling, “ Not my blood, there was never my blood.”

 

“Okay…” Unsure in how to retrieve her hand, she bites into her lower lip. The man lets go, but grips the bloody napkin, shoving it into what she imagines is a pocket between the fur.  She takes a look good at him, noticing he’s shirtless, his body as flawless as his face. Near the line of his ripped jeans, there is a [ tattoo ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/a9/e7/e4/a9e7e42b524097fd80c005b97887825c--poppies-tattoo-poppy-tattoo-watercolor.jpg), but the dingy lights of the bar make it hard to distinguish the form. Sort of like a flower with a red hue is on his pale skin.

 

The clink of glass on the table make her look up, and now the man is smiling at her. She feels embarrassed to be discovered but chins up. He gently pushes the drink to her side,  “Bright, like most of the animals that kills you if you eat them.” The man mutters to the tall glass of bright pink, he smiles; and offers it. She usually doesn’t accept drinks from strange men that talk to themselves, but she saw the bartender prepare it. And he was handsome. Sometimes you gotta give before you can take, that’s what granny taught her.

 

The drink is sweet and she can barely taste the alcohol on it. She likes it and mutters a small “Thanks”, before taking another sip and finally remembering her manners again. “I’m Ioana, but call me Ana, it’s a lot easier on the tongue. “

 

“I can taste it, sweet as I untangled it.” His voice is deep, and he leans to her side, finger pressing her small back over the clothes. “ Your name spells the God’s mercy yet you had met no mercy.” He seems to stop, to think, his fingers idly draw circles. “I can be merciful for you, Ioana.”

 

Frozen under him, and his words, she barely notices the gentle fingers raking through her blonde locks. Pulling the scrunchie off, he drops it on her lap, his smile too crazy to be comforting, but too beautiful to ignore. “Darling and lost Ioana, for you, I will ignore the dissonant whispers, the dreadful dreams and offer you something terrible.”

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO! Foremost, thanks for reading this. I have been agonizing for some time now if to publish this, and on a whim, I finally did it. Sorry if it's short.
> 
> Please please leave comment or kudos if you like this. I'm very shy and unsure if to continues this, so any feedback is helpful.
> 
> Also beautiful art by beautiful people of my Egdy thrashlord Eyvar  
> [ Concept Art ](http://lunabellenight.tumblr.com/post/164352290729/character-reference-of-gogolithicmass-edgy)
> 
> [ Art ](http://gogolithicmass.tumblr.com/post/163701665603/my-beautiful-edgy-thrash-vampire-son-eyvar-from)


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